


My Son, Please Speak

by Bellobelle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, M/M, POV Uther, Uther isn't horrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellobelle/pseuds/Bellobelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uther is relieved when a curse misses Arthur and kills a servant instead. He's ready to put the incident behind him, but something about the loss of the servant has an effect on Arthur that Uther never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Son, Please Speak

After the events- the Incident, as he took to referring to it in his head- Uther noticed a change in his son.

In the days immediately following Uther understood Arthur's grief. He was nearly killed, for gods' sake, and one of his subjects was killed in his stead. Arthur cared about the people of Camelot more than anything, and while Uther did not agree with Arthur's determination to always sacrifice himself for the peasants, at least he understood it.

That night Uther watched his son clutch the boy's lifeless body to his chest, sobbing into his neck as blood flowed from the gaping hole in the boy's side. His head flopped around a little sickeningly.

Of course Uther felt a pang of sympathy for the boy, he had taken a curse to the chest after all. But he couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly relieved. So the boy was dead, but he had given his life so that Prince Arthur could live. Arthur was safe. He'd get over this boy's death in a day or so, and then this whole night would be behind them.

Uther walked up to Arthur, who after several minutes was still kneeling on the floor and clutching the boy's body even more tightly, if such a thing were possible.

"Arthur," Uther said.

At the sound of his father's voice, Arthur's sobs ceased. He sat still and took a great, shuddering breath before gently releasing his hold on the body and placing it on the floor, arranging the limbs as carefully as though he was merely sleeping and Arthur did not want to wake him.

Uther waited patiently for Arthur to stand up. There was blood completely soaking his front, but that was alright, it was the boy's, not Arthur's.

Arthur faced his father. His expression was wrecked.

"He'll be buried properly," Uther offered, "He died a hero's death. What was his name?"

Arthur appeared to be swaying on his feet. "His name was Merlin."

That night Uther paid a visit to Arthur's chambers, intending to spend at least a few minutes with his son who he came so close to losing. But when he arrived he found Arthur sitting in a chair by the fire, staring numbly into the flames.

"I almost lost you," Uther said.

Arthur only looked up to stare with blank eyes. "I'm still here, father."

"I'm glad."

There was a short silence.

"Please leave," Arthur said.

"Arthur, I hoped I could-"

"Please, father."

Uther considered protesting, but Arthur had already turned to the fire and appeared to have forgotten his presence entirely. Uther left without another word.

In the days following, Uther took the time to observe his son. The day after the incident Arthur introduced a new training schedule for the knights, and started it with frenzy. Uther watched Arthur out on the field, taking down knight after knight with such anger and ferocity that Uther feared the men would lose limbs before they got a chance to fight in a proper battle. But Arthur pulled away at the last second, always, leaving the knight breathless and exhausted but well trained. Uther concerned over the cause of Arthur's rage, but decided that he was pleased with his progress in training.

Arthur didn't show up at dinners, and when he wasn't training he withdrew to his chambers, sending Uther away whenever he tried to speak with him.

"What is troubling him, I wonder?" Uther asked of Gaius one day, a week after the Incident, "He's still not upset about that boy, is he?"

"The boy's name was Merlin," Gaius said. Uther's eyebrows rose. He wasn't used to that level of coldness in Gaius' voice.

"Merlin," Uther repeated, "Yes of course, I remember. He saved Arthur's life."

"Twice," Gaius said.

"Yes." Uther remembered that day, the way the dagger seemed to spin in slow motion, the terror that raced through his veins as the blade soared straight to Arthur's chest. "I am very much indebted to him."

"Indeed."

Uther considered Gaius. "He was your ward, correct?"

"Ward and apprentice. He was something like a son to me."

"I am sorry for your loss, Gaius. I truly am sorry he had to die. These things do happen."

"I understand, sire."

Gaius was staring at Uther, hard, his eyebrows raised high and mouth pressed in a paper thin line.

"I gave him a nice burial, is that not enough?"

"That's plenty. If that is all you wish to say, sire, I have patients to attend to."

"Of course," Uther said, "You are dismissed."

Things got no better. Arthur was still quiet. His training became so rigorous that Uther became concerned rather than proud for his son's physical well-being. Every day he hear the clanging of swords and a roar from Arthur's throat, hoarse and scratchy as the days wore on.

Finally Uther cornered him in the armory just after another training session. The knights had all left long ago, fed up with the ridiculous feats Arthur was requiring them to do. They had slunk off, leaving Arthur to beat a dummy until dinnertime.

"Arthur, I wish to speak with you," Uther said from the doorway.

Arthur looked up. The numbness in his eyes unsettled Uther, still there after so long. He didn't send Uther away, so Uther spoke.

"You have been acting very strange lately."

"Have I?"

"I know you have. Ever since the...incident."

Arthur didn't say anything, didn't move, didn't blink.

"The b--Merlin. You cared for him?"

After a beat: "A great deal."

"He was your servant."

"Yes," Arthur agreed, "He was also my friend. I found him to be a worthy companion."

"He was respectful of you?"

Arthur was quiet.

"No. He called me a prat. If you'll excuse me."

And Arthur barged past Uther without another word, leaving Uther to wonder at how such a boy as Merlin could have won the friendship of the prince.

Uther sought Gaius' help one last time.

"I don't understand," He growled, "I have tried to understand this terrible sadness in Arthur. He has always had a big heart, he has always cared for his people. But this goes beyond that. I do not understand."

"Have you tried speaking to him about it?"

"Yes. He didn't tell me much."

Gaius hmm'd. "It will take time. Grief can have a tremendous effect on people, particularly when one loses someone so close to one's heart."

Uther shook his head. "How close was Arthur to Merlin, exactly?"

Gaius sighed. "They cared for each other a great deal, sire."

"Answer me honestly," Uther said. The idea was ridiculous, of course, but if it meant getting through to his son, he had no choice but to entertain it. "I went through grief like Arthur is once in my life, when Igraine died. I have lost friends that I care for, but never have I been so crushed as then. I cannot imagine Arthur would be so affected."

Gaius appeared to be chewing on his words. "I am not sure what you want me to tell you, sire."

"The truth. Whatever you can tell me so I can understand."

Gaius sighed. "What I am about to tell you is very delicate," He said, "And you must promise me you will not seek to hurt Arthur. You must keep an open mind."

"Of course, Gaius, just-"

"Give me your word," Gaius said, and Uther froze at the solemnity of his voice, the hardness around the eyes as he demanded Uther listen to him.

Uther swallowed. "You have my word."

"Very well. Your son and Merlin were close, not only as companions, but as lovers."

Uther choked on nothing. "Lovers?"

Gaius nodded. "They kept it a strict secret, of course, they feared what would happen if they were caught. But they loved each other with more passion than I have ever witnessed in my lifetime. They appeared to be two halves of the same whole."

Uther fished a hand around for a chair to fall into.

"How could that be?"

"I do not know, sire, but it was. And now Merlin is dead and Arthur is left without his other half."

Uther thought of Arthur, the way he clung so desperately to the body of the serving boy. His heart ached for him. He knew the feeling, when he himself had clung to Igraine. The feeling of a beast clawing at your insides and tearing out your flesh was one he had hoped his son would never have to feel.

He didn't wait for Gaius to explain anything more. He dismissed him and went to find Arthur.

He found him in his chambers. A plate of food sat before him on the table, but Arthur was merely staring at it. His fork lay untouched.

"Merlin came from Ealdor, is that correct?"

Arthur's head shot up. Uther took that as a yes.

"He had a family?"

"A mother."

"Would it help," Uther said, "That is, would it make you feel better, if we offered his mother a place to stay?"

Arthur's mouth was agape, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

Uther cleared his throat. "Presumably she has little money," He said, "And she just lost her son. I've thought perhaps we could offer her a position in our royal household, as condolences."

"You think she would want to leave her home and come to the place where her only son died?"

"She would be protected," Uther said, "She could live out the rest of her days in peace. What do you think?"

Arthur was silent, then stood up and crossed to where his father stood.

"I think Hunith would like that. I'd like to have her here."

Uther supressed a relieved sigh. "Good. I'm glad. I'll send out a band of guards to fetch her."

"Actually," Arthur said as Uther turned to leave, "I think I'd like to be the one to make the trip."

"Whatever for?"

Arthur faltered. "For Merlin. He would want her in the hands of someone who knows her."

Uther smiled. There was such hope in Arthur's expression, beside the pain instead of eclipsed by it. "Of course," He said.

Arthur smiled in return. "Thank you, father."

As a last minute thought, Uther reached out a hand to lightly grip Arthur's arm. "I want you to be happy, son," He said, "Whatever you need to care for Hunith, you are free to take."

In fear of revealing too much, Uther clapped Arthur one more time on the arm before leaving. The last thing he saw before closing the door was the beginnings of a smile, hesitant and tinged with grief, but real, stretching across his son's face.


End file.
